


The Unfinished Chapter

by writingrach76



Category: The Great Gatsby (1974)
Genre: Angst, Depression, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, suicide note
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 12:51:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11059359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingrach76/pseuds/writingrach76
Summary: Gatsby killed himself, and no one was quite sure why. His butler finds a note addressed to Nick in Gatsby's desk, and gives it to Nick in the middle of the night. This is the contents of that letter. This is Gatsby's view of his life.





	The Unfinished Chapter

**Author's Note:**

> This is my version of what happened to Gatsby. I always felt that Gatsby had a hidden depth, and he would have felt things very deeply, and that would have made him a very unhappy person. This is the chapter of The Great Gatsby that I think Nick tried to write, and was unable to finish because it was too painful for him. (Which is also why this just ends.) I wrote this as an end of the year project for my AP Literature and Composition class (how awesome is my teacher??), but it hasn't really been edited by anyone but me since I wrote it all in one night, and I feel like something crucial is missing from it. Anyway, without further ado: why Jay Gatsby really died.

It was the middle of the night and someone was knocking incessantly on my door. Gatsby was the only one that I would have expected it to be, before…well, before yesterday. The knocking increased in volume as I stumbled out of bed and tied my robe around my waist as I headed for the door. A quick glance through the curtains revealed nothing about my visitor, and I opened the door cautiously. Gatsby had a fair number of enemies and I didn’t know if our friendship would cause any of those enemies to turn on me.

My fears were quelled as the familiar face of Gatsby’s butler peered around the half open door at me.

“Forgive me, sir, but I found this and I thought it might be important for you to get right away.” He held a thick, cream colored envelope out to me, my name written boldly on the front in large curling script.

“Where did you find this?” The butler and I had done a cursory glance through each of the rooms, looking for any clues that might tell us why Gatsby had done what he did, but so far we had come up empty handed. 

“In the locked drawer of his personal desk. I know we said we’d go through the house more carefully in the coming days but I couldn’t sleep…” He trailed off glancing guiltily at me.

“It’s really not my place to give orders, Gatsby was your employer. I was only his friend.” I didn’t need to see the butler’s face to know that that wasn’t what he believed. We hadn’t exactly been as careful as we should have been. Not that any of it mattered now. Gatsby had no need to worry about his reputation and I knew that mine would stay intact. New York City was full of secrets and drama, if it got out I doubted that I’d be the center of attention for more than a week at most.

“If it contains a new will, it will have to be taken to his lawyer immediately.” He watched me turn the envelope over and over in my hands.

“Somehow, I doubt that’s what this is. Thank you. I’ll let you know if there’s anything of use to us.” He inclined his head and stepped back as the door clicked shut. I fell back against the door, sliding to the ground, the envelope clutched tightly in my hands. The last piece of Gatsby that I would ever have was clutched between my fingertips and I wasn’t ready to have to let him go already. I wanted there to always be parts of Gatsby that I could explore. 

I took a shaky breath as I went to sit in my sitting room by the light from the night sky. It felt easier to deal with in the dark, and with trembling hands I broke the seal on the envelope. I unfolded the thick cream colored pages, filled with curling script identical to that on the front of the envelope, and I began to read.

 

_ Dearest Nick, _

_ I'm sorry, old sport, but I felt that you deserved the truth. Of all the people in my life, you are the only one that deserves an answer. But keep this between us, old sport. No one else needs to know any of this. _

_ If I'm being honest, I don't know quite where to begin. You were always the writer, not me. I'm good at lying to people's faces. I'm not good at telling the truth even if it's to a piece of paper to a person I won't see again. (I am sorry about that little detail, old sport. It's inevitable.). I find it harder the more I think about how this may affect you, and while many people may use that to sway their decision in the opposite way, I am afraid to say that I’ve made up my mind and nothing can change that. Everything had been set in motion for too long when I met you, for you to be a large enough factor to change any of it. I really am sorry for any pain I may have caused you.  _

_ The first thing I guess you need to know, is that I’m a fraud. That’s right, fantastic, amazing Gatsby is nothing but a fraud. I made all of my money, that you knew. How I made it is little known, though I imagine the rumors run wild with theories, and I would hazard a guess that some of them are right. I’ll spare you the details of my drug and bootlegging business, I don’t want your opinion of me to drop any lower than it has to, if that’s possible. Are you still even reading? I’d thought I believed in you Nick, but now I’m doubting myself. Have you already crumpled these words up and tossed them aside because you’re disgusted that I pretend that I’ve made my money in a clean, legal business, when on the contrary my hands are soiled by illegal practices? Or, are you disgusted that I have taken matters into my own hands and chose when my life is to end, rather than let fate decide? I hope you’re still reading, old sport.  _

_ If you are still reading then maybe you find what I have just shared to be insignificant due to your faithful friendship to me. It’s not, it’s quite a significant part of my story. You see, I clearly don’t come from a family with a lot of money. All I have wanted for as long as I can remember, was to be successful. At first it was for Daisy, but when I realized that I began to gravitate other ways, it was simply just to be successful so that I’d never have to worry about money again. I could be with who I wanted, do what I wanted, eat what I wanted, and I’d never have a care in the world. I always imagined that I’d make my fortune and my reputation at the same time, and in a way that did happen, but not at all in the way I wanted. It may not be clear outwardly, but I have always been disgusted with my way of life. I’ve made a fortune off of the addictive nature of humankind, and continue to entertain that nature with my parties. That isn’t something to be proud of. _

_ That was the start of my poor opinion of myself, but I was young and naive and I thought that it would end there. I tried to force it to end there. I built up a facade of arrogance and confidence and sureness. I thought it would be enough to get me through life. Who knew, old sport. Who knew you needed more than that to be happy? I certainly didn’t-maybe this tragedy is all my fault then. I brought this upon myself, thinking I could be happy by pretending for the rest of my life. It didn’t work. _

_ I thought liquor and drugs might fix what I couldn’t. The very things I hated myself for selling to people, I started using. It’s nice to escape. It appalls me that I even say that, but pretending to be happy only lasts for so long. _

_ Do you remember tonight? You saw me at the Buchanan’s and you tried to get me to come home, but I stayed to keep an eye on their house, and to keep an eye on Daisy. That’s what I told you-but that wasn’t the truth. The truth is, I refused to come back home because I knew that if I did I would go to your house, crawl into bed with you, and promptly spill everything that has been on my mind for years. I wanted to tell you everything and I wanted you to stop me from this decision that I had made. But of course, I don’t blame you because how would you know that I needed you when I gave absolutely no inclination as such? So you left, even as I begged you in my head not to, I wish you’d been able to hear me somehow. I was looking for a different kind of escape, and you could have been it, if I wasn’t so afraid of going back on my decision. _

_ I stayed there all night, outside of Daisy’s house. I didn’t keep an eye on her. I was sorry that she’d killed a woman, but there was nothing I could do about it. The deed was done. I’ve killed my fair share of people; only one more left to go. I kept thinking about that. One more death, that’s all it would take and all of this would be over. I kept staring into that green blinking light at the end of the Buchanan’s dock, and all I could do was think.  _

_ I thought about that party where I first met you. I thought about how alone I felt. I was prepared to do it that night. I really thought I would do it that night, after everyone had left, or maybe even while people were still down in my yard dancing and drinking their hearts out. No one would notice the gunshot over the sound of the music. No one would realize that I was missing until it was far too late. But then you arrived looking for me, inquiring about your invitation and I felt the overwhelming desire to get to know this fresh face in a sea of clones. You delayed my death, Nick, and I will forever be grateful for the memories and experiences you have given me, no matter how trivial they may seem to you.  _

_ Your friendship was a gift that I never expected. You came to my parties, you went out on my boat with me, drove in my car with me, and went to lunch with me. Those were things no one had ever done with me simply because they enjoyed my company. You were a different person from the majority of New York City’s population, and I enjoyed every moment that I was able to spend with you. And then by some miracle, you fell in love with me too. I realize that this may be confusing. I am ashamed of my actions surrounding this subject. Please know that I don’t exaggerate when I say that that night that I spent with you was the best night of my life. I reacted as I did afterwards because I was afraid. I was afraid of what people might think. I was afraid that people might begin to dig deeper if they found that out, and find out my other secrets too. I was afraid that loving you would change my mind. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I do believe I made a right mess of things. I can’t say sorry enough times, old sport. _

_ I’m sure you can understand why I did it now, old sport. Everything just kept piling up. I was a fraud and I was addicted to the very things I sold to others to make my fortune. I was hiding my interest in relations of a homosexual sort and consequently I hurt you, and jeopardized any relationship that we may have been able to have in the future. Daisy was traumatized over killing some woman when it was my fault. But mostly, I was surrounded by people all of the time but I just could not stop feeling  _ so alone.  _ I couldn’t think of any other way to make it stop.  _

_ This is my decision. I am sorry, I truly am, old sport. I hope you can move on quickly. I wasn’t worth much anyway. I’m sorry for anything that we could have become that I’ve ruined. I’m sorry for taking up a significant amount of your life when I wasn’t worth that space. I’m sorry if I hurt you. I love you Nick Carraway. If I don’t find the courage to walk down to your home and tell you before my final moments, then at least I have said it now. _

_ Jay Gatsby  _


End file.
